


if not for a coffee bean

by WhiskeyVoice



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F, Fluff, university coffee shop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 07:17:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5958508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskeyVoice/pseuds/WhiskeyVoice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Experiment: University coffee shop barista Cosima tries to play it smooth with a beautiful patron.<br/>Results: Cosima fails.<br/>Conclusion: Cosima is a biology nerd and easily flustered and crushes hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if not for a coffee bean

**Author's Note:**

> cophine fluff because science flirting is sexy and also delta-notch signaling is totally a metaphor for their entire relationship. Thanks for reading! - WhiskeyVoice

Yet again, Cosima found herself begging the clock. Only three, no maybe two and a half if she rounded, hours of this shift, only one more shift this week, only three more months of this shit, and then she was done. After months of entertaining all possible worlds, grad school had finally said yes to her, and her tuition would be covered, _and_ she’d get a measly stipend, hardly enough for rent and transit and food, but at least it was something. She probably would have sold her soul to the academy for less. Anything to get back to science, back to teaching, back to arguing rather than this god damn customer service. She never thought she’d miss pipettes.

Perhaps the one saving grace of working at the University coffee shop was the people watching. An ever present cast of characters barreled through their doors: professors on secretive phone calls with the occasional sharp whisper or the undergrad at TA office hours who had clearly studied the TA’s face more than the material or the power drunk group in the corner talking about the equity contract for their startup.

Cosima was convinced that a small location could represent a micro-universe (albeit with a skewed population distribution), and she was privy to this one. She could run casual experiments (the one where she made the lattes with quadruple shots yielded rather amusing results) or unravel the dramatic tales on campus within an hour. It kept her engaged, connected, and, though she’d loathe to admit it, a tad less lonely.

Alas, today was obnoxiously slow and provided her minimal entertainment. Cosima twirled her dreads as she tried to balance an espresso bean on a cup. Quite artful, if she said so herself.

“You better not be goin’ fuckin’ twee on me.”

Ah yes. She would be remiss to say that her coworker was not her saving grace. Indeed, Sarah tells her as much at least once a week.

“It’s an experiment on center of gravity,” Cosima retorts, focusing ever more on the bean. It was actually quite interesting, mimicking the contour of a ladybug, and if flipped over to the other side, the back, you might say, then….  

Sarah looked blankly at her as she leaned against the counter. “You’re obscene.”

Cosima barely registered the comment as she had gotten the bean to balance and was pulling out her notebook.

“My god,” said Sarah, rolling her eyes as she turned around to finally face the customers in front of her. The fuckers could learn to wait.

In the front of her was a tall, blond woman with a bag slung over her shoulder. Her hair was a tad tousled, and she looked with fascination at Cosima, who was now sketching and writing vector equations for the coffee bean.

Sarah smirked. This woman was totally Cos’s type and seemed completely entranced. If only Cos wasn’t so damn focused on that bean.

“Whatcha want?” she snapped, with just a smidge less malice than usual.

That broke the spell. The women blinked her eyes a few times and refocused her attention on Sarah. “Oh, uh, coffee, please.”

Sarah’s smirk widened. Accent, too. Cos was going to hate herself. She looked in Cosima’s direction. “Coffee, Cos.”

Cosima finished scratching some spew of math regarding exoskeletons and stood up, adjusting her glasses as she absentmindedly grabbed a cup.

Sarah watched with raised eyebrow the woman in front of her blatantly stare as Cosima cracked her neck, put her pen in her mouth, and filled up the cup of coffee. To be fair, this woman was not the first to be struck by Cosima’s ease and looks, but still. Obvious, much?

“That’ll be one fifty.” Sarah said to the woman as Cosima handed her the drink without looking up. She was already back to her notebook, pen in hand, eyes crinkling.

The woman, more composed this time around, held out two dollars and took the mug. “ _Merci._ ” She then gave one last quick look to a thinking Cosima and then walked away to a table within, Sarah noticed, eye view. Like hell she was going to get work done.

Sarah turned to the next customer, since the line had already backed up a bit, and began to work on autopilot, filling some of the orders herself as Cosima was working the espresso maker. Once the last customer was served, Sarah pounced.

“So, Cos, whatcha think of the spread today?” She jutted her chin to the crowd of people.

“Pfff. Nothing interesting, as usual,” Cosima responded without looking up from her worn notebook.

Normally, Sarah would take this as the opportunity to berate her about needing to interact with the world instead of just her boring books and biology. Cosima was clearly ready, with retort poised on her tongue, smile creeping across her face.

“You sure?” Sarah continued the game. Cosima, taken aback, looked at her coworker, who had on that devious smile and I-dare-you face. Finally intrigued, she stopped leaning against the back counter and faced the crowd, scanning.

Nothing was really out of the ordinary. The sweet elderly man in the corner with his books of poetry, the stressed out pre-med group going through homework with horror on their faces, the on-again off-again couple in the corner, this time clearly on-again. All in its place.

“How ‘bout blondie over there?” Sarah tilted her head in the woman’s direction.

Cosima followed the angle until she saw the woman, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. Hair isn’t ever really feathery, but this woman certainly had some levity about her. She twirled her pen languidly, as a well-used laugh cascades. Which brought Cosima to her mouth, which she most definitely did not want to leave. Cosima could only imagine the warmth of spring on her lips, the way they twitched slightly, bemused with the book’s attempt to challenge her intellect. Her smile was a mantelpiece and a secret and a river, and Cosima could not remember where she read the phrase boundlessness but it felt right as she continued to stare.

“Damn.” A small breath. “Wow.” A sigh. “When did she—”

Sarah, all smug and without pity, curtly shared, “You served her coffee.”

This broke Cosima out of her staring. “I what? When?”

Sarah smile threatened to extend its outer limits. “When you were looking at your stupid bean.”

Cosima paled. Of course she would get caught up in not-even-biology biology thoughts and prepare coffee for this gorgeous, possibly brilliant, woman without even making eye contact. Naturally Cosima’s brain would outdistract her hormones. She groaned as she hit her head on the espresso machine.

Sarah continued with her grand story. “So there I was, right, with this smoking hot woman in the front of me.” She paused, “And she’s tall.”

More groaning.

“And she’s French.”

Even louder groaning.

“And I was thinking that I could pull a smooth move just to spite you but, you know what?”

Cosima did not dare to lift her head. “What.”

Sarah twisted the knife. “I couldn’t because she was completely eye-shagging you the whole time.”

Cosima shot up. “No. Really? She was? She was watching me?”

Taken aback at the enthusiasm and severely disappointed at the lack of groaning, Sarah nodded. “Yeah, she totally was starin’ at you.”

A small grin. “Oh, I can work with that.”

It was Sarah’s turn to groan. “I shouldn’t have told you. I should have let you wallow in the possibility that she was a straight girl and gorgeous and you missed any and all opportunity to talk to her. But no. You’ll take any chance you can get.”

“I consider myself opportunistic.”

“That’s a word for it. Or, ya know, desperate.”

Cosima rolled her eyes and looked back at the woman, thinking face on.

Sarah watched Cosima go into overblown plan mode as she stared at the woman. She _could_ just walk over, introduce herself, apologize for rudely ignoring her earlier, and ask her about her book. Nice. Simple. Low-cost and quick. But no, Cosima was, as she liked to remind Sarah often enough, a scientist, which meant she liked experiments: inputs, outputs, the whole causation thing.

Whatever, Sarah said to herself. At least Cosima was smiling, even if it was in a stalking creep way. And besides, Sarah could always do with some good old-fashioned entertainment. 

Like how blondie just noticed Cosima’s staring and turned towards her. Cue the mutual blush. Cosima hurried to turn away, pretending to work on the espresso machine, while the other woman merely raised an eyebrow and smiled to herself as she turned back to her book. Cue Sarah’s gagging.

“Cos, do not tell me you’re going to play this lovesick puppy routine.”

Cosima slowed her cleaning of the machine but didn’t look up.

“You don’t even know the girl. What if she ends up boring?” This was not a true concern. They both knew Cosima could entertain a girl for a while before the boring aspect mattered.

A sigh. “No worries.” She flashed a quick smile, “I tots got this.”

 Sarah rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Cosima flashed a smile and quickly glanced towards the woman in question. She had been looking at Cosima and quickly turned away. Oh yes, Cosima thought, she has totally got this.

\--- --- ---

After her performance this past week, Cosima had to admit that she does not, in fact, totally got this.

Each time the woman approached the counter, Cosima had gotten flustered, managing to flash a smile but unable to say anything other than a mumbled you’re welcome to her _merci_. The coffee cup felt extraordinarily heavy as she handed it over to Sarah, who passed it on to the smiling woman as though it was infested with Cosima’s nervousness. She was borderline pathetic, and Sarah would not let it go. She found every opportunity to make snarky comments and then try to goad her into action, which was frustratingly sweet.

At least Sarah wasn’t in today, so Cosima could spend the entire shift thinking instead of playing verbal catch.

It was a Monday afternoon, and a slow crawl of patrons marked the day, never making Cosima too rushed or overwhelmed. So she lost herself in her copy of this week’s _Nature_ , commenting in her notebook on the flawed methods or intriguing conclusions.

She was so engrossed that she didn’t notice a person walking up to the cashier. She didn’t notice when this person stared at her and smiled softly as she scrunched her eyebrows. She didn’t notice when this person pulled out her phone, began scrolling through emails, and checking the time. A bite of the lip and softness of expression. A wistful sigh.

“ _Excusez-moi,”_ said a curved voice, startling Cosima. She marked her page and put down her notebook, only to look up and see the woman who has been drifting through her day dreams.

“Ack. I’m so sorry. I got really caught up in the prospect of delta-notch signaling in, well, uh, it actually doesn’t matter.” She paused, catching herself tagenting, “how long have you been waiting?”

The woman only smiled and shrugged in response, content to have Cosima fluster about. Cosima could feel the blush growing on her cheeks. “Uh, well, sorry for the wait. Um, what can I get you?”

“Is that this week’s _Nature_?” She pointed to the journal on top of Cosima’s notebook.

Cosima automatically answered, “Uh, yeah.”

“What do you think about the paper on TRC formation and its effect on the cell’s pathophysiology?” The woman tilted her head slightly.

Cosima paused to consider her answer. The research came from this University, so she didn’t want to speak too poorly of it, but as a scientist, she couldn’t help but be at least a tad critical. “Well, it was certainly very well written, but the authors seemed to deduce too much from the second figure. A gel might be convincing insofar as length and integration, but I’m not convinced that the secondary structure can be discussed properly without appropriate imaging or crystallography.”

“It did feel a bit rushed.” The woman appraised Cosima, perhaps impressed? Perhaps intrigued? “But I felt like the fifth figure concretized the findings.”

“Hm. Perhaps.” Cosima was tempted to look at the paper again to refuel the debate but refrained. “T-cells aren’t really my strong suit, though, so I’d gladly defer to you. What is your background anyway?”

“Immunology.” The woman smiled, and Cosima swore she saw some twinkling action in those eyes. “I’m a PhD here. And what about yourself? Some professors don’t even bother reading through _Nature_ unless they’re published in it.”

“Ah. Makes sense. I think good scientists can generalize. Also, work is not the most intellectually stimulating, except, apparently, when chatting with you.” Cosima sincerely hoped the smile she was giving was seductive and not puppy-like. “I’m starting my PhD next year in evo-devo.” She paused to check if there was any recognition. Unclear, but Cosima could indeed confirm the woman’s mouth was enticing as ever. “Evolutionary development, that is.”

“And how do coffee beans fit in?”

Cosima was not sure what would happen first: whether she’d faint from the massive amount of blood rushing to her cheeks or swoon from the devious smirk this woman was giving her. “I, uh, well…”

The woman spared Cosima from her sputtering by holding out a hand. “I don’t believe we ever actually introduced ourselves. I’m Delphine.”

“Cosima.” She grabbed Delphine’s hand. Soft, but not delicate.

“ _Enchanté._ ” Delphine responded, maintaining playful eye contact.

Cosima thought through the pronunciation in her head and then spoke, “ _Enchanté._ ” She waited for a next step, but Delphine kept staring at her, seemingly tracing her face, lingering at her lips. Cosima twitched her lip up into a smirk and raised an eyebrow. Delphine instantly halted her staring and looked up at Cosima’s eyes.

“Now, how can I help you, Delphine?” Mustering up her seduction abilities, Cosima could only pray her voice didn’t catch.

“Oh, I wonder…” Delphine let her eyes linger as they slowly traveled down Cosima’s body. Cosima was having trouble breathing.

“Might I recommend—” Cosima was cut short by a sharp beeping. It was coming from Delphine’s bag.

“ _Merde._ I need to head over to a meeting.” Delphine scrambled through her bag to turn off the alarm.

Quickly grabbing a cup, Cosima filled up a coffee in a to-go cup and handed it over. “Here. For the road.”

As Delphine began to look for her wallet, Cosima cut in, “No, no. On the house. I distracted you from getting your coffee earlier. It’ll be my fault if you’re late.”

Delphine gratefully grabbed the coffee, “ _Merci_.” As she turned away from Cosima, she added, “You’re always a distraction.”

That woman was going to be the death of her. Her blood pressure was definitely much too high for her age. Brilliant and seductive and damn. Cosima most definitely took the full opportunity to stare at Delphine’s frame as she walked away.

As she watched Delphine walk out the door, swaying hips and all, Cosima remembered that she wanted to return to the TCR paper. She picked up the journal, flipping to the article, and began to scan for figure five. Delphine was right. This was the figure that cinched it. She had even wrote that down in her notes: “dubious but fig 5!” The two of them must have had a mind meld or something. Fellow scientists with similar critiques!

Flipping to the first page of the journal, Cosima paused, thinking she saw something familiar. She went back a page, and there, at the top, under the title, was the list of authors for the TCR article. First author: Delphine Cormier. Her eyes flew to the footnote and confirmed what she already knew: PhD student at the University. Delphine had written the damn paper. Of course.

Cosima groaned. She was so completely, utterly doomed.

\--- --- ---

 Twenty four hours later, and Cosima was still daydreaming about the way Delphine looked at her, about where hands could follow eyes. She could already smell the adrenaline-fueled pheromones on Delphine’s neck, how she would arch her back, teeth exposed, breath shaky. She could already trace fingers over the scars she was sure to discover as Delphine became an archeological site, each gasp with gentle prodding, uncovering and recovering the dark eyes and feral snarl. Cosima wanted to trace through the list of infinitive with Delphine: to adore, to beckon, to cup, to devour, to elicit…

“You’re crushing way too hard.”

Sometimes, Cosima wished her voice of reason kept her thoughts to herself. “Obvs. She’s brilliant and attractive. What’s not too like?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. If Cos would make her, she’d play the grounded role. Through the snark, she let out a small wispy concern. “Have you even talked to her?”

“Kinda.”

“Which means no.”

“Kinda.”

It was true, in a way. They had talked. She knew her name, which is more than some people can say of their crushes. But Sarah was right, too: she knew nothing about Delphine, really. Their conversations had been limited to snarky back-and-forths. Which was fine if Cosima’s attraction was purely physical because then so what if Delphine didn’t turn out to be the woman she was imagining her to be?

But, Cosima was imagining. She was imagining walks in the park and corny science jokes and reading _Nature_ together on the bed, on their bed, in their apartment. She had day dreamed about them adopting a dog or a cat or maybe both and naming them Roselind Franklin and Marie Curie. She began to wonder what Delphine did during the day and whether she had siblings and what she liked to cook and how she sounded when she first woke up. She imagined her tender and laughing and confident and comforted and _hers_.

And Cosima was scared about the possibility of actually talking to Delphine and learning that she could never be those things. That all these imaginings were just that. That she would continue to show up in the coffee shop and they’d make awkward eye contact instead of sharing a quick kiss. Cosima didn’t want to know if Delphine saw her as a fun hook-up. She didn’t want to hear if Delphine thought science was a means to an end. She didn’t want to watch Delphine laugh at her when she realized Cosima’s ring tone was from Star Wars. She wasn’t sure she would be able to handle the rejection, not of her, but of her own desires for something more than these wanting stares, than these seductive smiles, than this game.

Sarah sensed her downward dejection. “Well, don’t get too bummed out if she doesn’t deliver. There’s always the beans.”

“Thanks, Sarah.” Cosima admitted a smile while rolling her eyes.

“Duh.” Sarah shoved Cosima with her shoulder playfully and let the conversation drop. The two of them fell back into the usual routine of shooting the shit, talking about the characters in the shop or Sarah’s latest annoyance. Cosima once again was reminded how much she valued their friendship, the ease about their interactions. Sarah could so easily read her mood and know exactly when to push and when to pause. She only hoped she was in some way returning the favor. Indeed, now that she thought about it, in some ways, they were so similar. Except, of course, that Sarah had absolutely no patience for scientific conversations.

“And with the end of that stimulating conversation about gene driving, your favorite set of genes is walking through the door.” Sarah seemed proud of herself for that one.

Cosima quickly turned her head away from Sarah’s smug face to see Delphine entering the coffee shop, causal grin and all.

“ _Bonsoir_ , Sarah, Cosima.” Delphine said to the two women.

Cosima quickly glanced over to Sarah, who had this smug grin on her face, refusing to answer Cosima’s nonverbal question. Instead, she said, “I’ll leave you two to it.”

“Whatever,” replied Cosima, to Delphine’s amusement. Sarah flicked her off as she walked to the back store room to “count inventory.” Trying to gather herself, Cosima took a deep breath and shifted her voice slightly as she turned back to Delphine, “So, couldn’t stay away from your distraction?”

Delphine laughed like butterflies flying between flowers in spring. “So eager to be mine.”

“Yes.” Cosima held eye contact, smiling as seductively as she could manage. She raised an eyebrow as Delphine began to blush, unable to craft a response.

Cosima decided to spare her. “So, coffee? Or were you interested in hearing more about what I thought of your paper?” Okay, only maybe slightly a sparing tactic.

Delphine had recovered by then, confident smile back in place. “Cheeky,” she announced, “Yes please to coffee, for here.”

Running automatically through the motions, Cosima handed over a warm mug of black coffee. Delphine had already put two dollars on the counter and gingerly took the drink.

They both stood there for a few seconds, unsure of how to continue.

Delphine was first to break the silence, “I’ll be over there, in case you need company during a break.” She pointed to a table near the back of the coffee shop.

Cosima nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She awkwardly gave a small wave as Delphine walked the ten meters to her table. She sighed, watching her put down her mug, pull out paper and a pen. Every act seemed graceful. Even that ripping of paper, the way she was crouched over the chair, smiling to herself.

“Just fuckin’ go over there.”

“Do you have any notion of privacy?” Cosima glared at Sarah, who just looked back.

“No. I’ll cover you. Now go.” Sarah shooed her, lightly pushing her shoulder.

“She just sat down!”

“Which means you should bother her now instead of midway through something. GO.” A rough push this time.

“Fine.” Cosima grumbled and then fixed up her glasses, planning her approach. “And thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Cosima took a big breath and walked over to Delphine, who was now reading a book. The paper and pen were gone. Cosima briefly wondered when that happened.

“One distraction at your service” Cosima said dramatically, trying to hide her nervousness. When Delphine looked startled and up at her, Cosima continued, “unless you’re actually working and stuff, in which case I can just shut up and go away. I don’t really mean to distract you, if you don’t want it, it was just that you said to come over, so. Yeah.”

“No, please sit.” Delphine put down her book and gestured at the seat across the table.

As Cosima sat down, she realized she had no idea what to talk about, how to even get the conversation going. She was utterly terrified. “Uhh…” she began, and Delphine similarly did not speak.

Cosima took stock of everything this interaction could be and admitted, sadly, that the worst that could happen was a strong dose of disappointment. The most she could lose was one set of many possible worlds, but at least the grieving would be quick. This attraction would persist as long as she let it, and if it wouldn’t be worth it, it’d be best to dowse it now.

She took a deep breath and looked around, eyes catching the title of Delphine's book, which she herself had read a few months ago and considered mildly compelling. Might as well start there. Composed and at peace with whatever the consequences, Cosima gestured towards the book and asked what Delphine had thought of it thus far. This science talk was solid ground.

Delphine similarly relaxed at the conversation topic, and the river of ideas and opinions began to flow. Though beginning as a trickle, soon it grew into a winding river, eventually branching out to touch on Cosima’s fond memories of SF and Delphine’s first encounter with bacon flavored vodka. They move effortlessly from topic to topic, and Cosima was drifting along through each bend, unable to wait for the moment where she could begin to swim.

Instead, she heard, “Cos, it’s closing time.”

Sarah got her attention from across the shop. Cosima didn’t know how two hours had passed, but they did, and now she owed Sarah big-time. She sent Sarah a silent thank you from across the way.

Returning to the now confirmed brilliant woman in front of her, different than she imagined and wonderful for it, Cosima said, “I’m sorry to leave, but if I don’t help her now, she’ll have my head.”

“ _Au moins_ ,” Delphine responded, now smiling easily.

“We’ll have to continue this soon.”

“Absolutely.”

Once again, there an impasse, but this time it was pleasant, and they were savoring rather than wondering. The knowledge of _yes, please, more_ lingered over them.

“Cos!”

They both laughed. Delphine spoke as she packed up her things, “Yes, well, I should go then.” She stood up and gave a quick wave, “I’ll talk to you tonight, _chéri_.”

Cosima waved back and then paused. “Wait. What?” But by then Delphine had already darted out the door. What did she mean tonight? Is there a biology department event? Or actually, now that she thinks of it, would Delphine be associated with the med school? Did she mention anything about an event at the med school?

Looking down, Cosima realized that Delphine forgot her mug on the table. Proof that it happens to the best of us, Cosima thought. Cosima picked up the mug, lingering ever so slightly, pretending the warmth she felt was from Delphine’s hand rather than the coffee. Then she saw it. Perfectly under the mug was a piece of paper with coffee stains on its outer rim. She picked up the note, and it read:

Cosima:  
I told you so.  
xo

Cosima’s eyes widened as she looked at the digits under the xo, and it was a fraction of a second before her smile grew as well. She pulled out her phone, punching in the number as quickly as could and responding:

_Now who’s cheeky?_


End file.
